Life And Times Of Sherlock Holmes: Kid Genius As According to John H
by andthensomei
Summary: Basically, Sherlock and Watson are like 13 years old and solve a murder mystery. This is my first story and I wrote it in like 8th grade but...just wanted to put it out here. Hope you like it, please leave reviews, and remember...THIS IS 8TH GRADE ME WRITING. It may not be the best thing you've ever read. (It's also very clean soooo if that ain't your cup of tea I'm sorry)
1. Chapter 1

Introduction

My friend, Sherlock Scott Holmes, isn't your ordinary 13 year old. Not only is he a kid genius but he has been declared by the president of the United States of America as one of the most accomplished and smartest detectives of the 21st century.

That's right: all of these celebs and geniuses figuring out the cure for cancer and my buddy Sherlock is named as the best and smartest detective of this new age.

Well, you can't have a genius as a friend and not record all of the interesting things he does. That is why I have taken it upon myself, John H. Watson, to record the life and times of Sherlock Holmes: Kid Genius.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 1

It started as a normal day at Cedar Point's local supermarket. Customers went in and out, getting their fruits, vegetables, dairy, meat, and bread. Finally, at exactly 7:00, Emily Rhodes, a cashier, rang up the last customer's items and watched him leave. She helped a few other cashiers clean up and then volunteered to go through the final process of closing up everything. The other cashiers left and Emily was on her own.

Just as she was about to turn out all the lights in the small store, she heard a scuffling noise and then a huge crash from the back. Cautiously, Emily moved to the back of the store. She picked up a broom on her way. Emily got to the back of the store and saw the source of the crashing and banging. All over the floor were cans of soup. Some had smashed open to make a big puddle of multi-colored mystery soup. Kicking aside some tomato soup and clam chowder, Emily began to look around at the other aisles, searching for the clumsy intruder.

She saw no one but something did catch her eye. She put down her broom and moved toward the dairy section. The refrigerators were humming softly and the lights were shining down on yogurt and milk. A note was taped to the door. On it was written: SHE'S ONLY THE FIRST! Confused, Emily tore the note off the door. She saw a motion in the glass door and looked up and screamed. A person dressed all in black with a black ski mask and holding a large butcher's knife was lunging toward her. She screamed again and that was the last sound she made.


	3. Chapter 3

It was a sunny Friday and Sherlock and I were just getting out of 6th period History with Ms. Dietrich. "I got a text from Inspector Lestrade. Some poor woman's gone ahead and kicked the bucket," Sherlock said. "Suicide?" I asked. "Nope, murder," Sherlock said without the least bit of emotion. I swear, he has issues with expressing emotions. "Oooo, I know who did it. It was Colonel Mustard in the library with the wrench!" I jokingly exclaimed. "No, it was at a supermarket over in Cedar Point," he said seriously. See, issues!

"Well, what does Inspector Lestrade want with you?" I asked.

"I'm one of the SJPDs top detectives," Sherlock said.

"Not really!"

"Of course really! They want me to solve this crime before more people get hurt."

"There will be other people?"

"Yes. There was a note that implied that. Anyway, I have to go now and you're coming with me."

"I'm not even going to argue with you."

And that is how I got involved in the Cedar Point Murder. Thanks Sherlock! You're a great friend! He wouldn't be able to tell that was sarcasm. Yep, I'm friends with a wierdo.


	4. Chapter 4

When we got to the supermarket, a police officer stopped us right before we ducked underneath the caution tape.

"Boys," he said. "This tape says 'Crime Scene. Do Not Cross.' What about that do you not understand? I'm sorry, you can't go in there."

"Newbie, right?" Sherlock asked. The police officer gave the affirmative. "Well, Officer, you'll soon get used to me being around. I've solved a record amount of crimes for this police department. So if you'll excuse me…"

Sherlock brushed right past the befuddled officer. "Sorry, sir," I said as I walked past him as well. "He's usually like that."

When we got to the back of the store, almost everything was the same except for there was no body. "Oh come on!" Sherlock exclaimed, exasperatedly. "It's not like I'm a little kid or something! I'm 13 for heaven's sake!"

Inspector Lestrade turned around and walked over to us. "Sorry Sherlock, but the rule is that you can't work with a dead body until you are legally able to be a part of the police force," he said.

"Picture's please," Sherlock said with resignation. Inspector Lestrade gave them to him with a grin.

"Be careful they're graphic," Inspector Lestrade said with a smirk.

"Very funny." Sherlock took out his notebook and pored over the pictures for a few minutes, making little notes in the notebook. "Hmmm, this is a very interesting case. Already the murderer has made a few mistakes. First, he used his own handwriting to write this note. Second, and this proves that he obviously never took Murder 101, he left behind the murder weapon. I'd say that this knife is new, maybe bought a day or two ago. We go to all the local shops, ask around, we find our murderer hopefully before he hurts anyone else. Although I do have to say that it would be very interesting to have a serial killer on our hands."

Yeah, Sherlock thinks serial killers are _interesting._


	5. Chapter 5

We went to all the shops that sold knives and just kitchen supplies in general (don't quite know why the police department kept lists like that, but ya know whatever) all over Cedar Point. Of course the shop that held our clues was the last one we went to.

"Sherlock," I whispered as we went into the last store on the list that went by the name of _Marty's Kitchen Supplies._ It was a small shop set back from the street that looked as if it was trying to be ignored and forgotten. The fluorescent sign proclaiming the name of the store was flickering on and off with the _K_ in _Kitchen_ completely dark, making the store _Marty's Itchen Supplies_. "Sherlock! I need to do my homework. If I miss another math assignment because of this detective business, I don't know who will be more mad, my mom or Mrs. Lake!"

"Stop complaining, John," Sherlock whispered back. "Things are about to get interesting!"

That reassured me!

We got inside the shop and immediately I became claustrophobic. Everything was cluttered and close together. The aisles were obviously meant for only one person and the shelves stretched up to the ceiling. Inspector Lestrade rang the little bell on a small desk cluttered with papers. A small, disheveled man came out of one of the aisles. He looked surprised to see us there like he never got any customers which, looking back on it, he probably didn't.

Inspector Lestrade held up the bag containing the murder weapon. "Did you sell this to someone a day or two ago?"

"Why yes!" the guy said. "I distinctly remember him. Probably because I hardly get any customers!" He giggled, a high pitched, nervous sound.

"Can you describe him?"

"Oh yes! He was tall maybe 6' 1" although I'm not as good at judging height as I used to be. Oh and he had bright red hair. He wouldn't be able to fit in anywhere!"

"Do you have a name for this man?"

"Yes! I asked him because he was so interesting looking I thought that maybe he would have an interesting name. He said that his name was Jeremy Wilkinson. Kind of disappointing name, but oh well."

After we thanked the guy for his time and left for the car, Inspector Lestrade looked up Jeremy Wilkinson on his phone. He almost instantly got a match for our killer.

"Jeremy Wilkinson lives in Los Gatos. He was put in prison for a while because he was affiliated with a drug empire in New York when he was only 25. His wife died in a car crash, a hit and run, a few years ago right around this area. That seems like a good motive: to kill people that were somehow involved in the crash. It seems that Emily Rhodes was one of the witnesses to the accident. She testified in court, saying that the man who was a suspect in the accident wasn't guilty. The guy was pronounced not guilty by the court. After that was all cleared up, he moved away to Michigan. The judge who pronounced him not guilty was a man by the name of Michael Bates. I'm thinking that Bates could be a possible victim. We need to find him now and make sure he's safe."

Sherlock was still kind of sulking because he hadn't really been able to help so far in the case. "Whatever you say, chief," he grumpily replied.

"Don't worry Sherlock," Inspector Lestrade said, slyly. "We'll make sure to get you home by dinnertime."

With a grumpy Sherlock in tow, Inspector Lestrade turned on the engine and we drove away. Which was fine by me because that little store was giving me the creeps!


	6. Chapter 6

We pulled up to Judge Bates house only ten minutes later. It was in a nice neighborhood filled with big houses and spacious front yards. The house was a nice light blue color and had a wrap around porch that my mom would probably kill for. The front lawn looked freshly mown and there was a weeping willow in the front.

We walked up to the door and Sherlock knocked. Ha! Sherlock had been degraded to door knocking. The smile was wiped right off my face when there was a giant crash from inside. Inspector Lestrade went all gung-ho and whipped out his gun, kicking the door open. Although Inspector Lestrade and Sherlock raced in immediately, I will admit that I cowered behind them. I mean, wouldn't you?

After we got through the door, we were met by a long hall that had tons of doors opening off of it. I almost immediately thought of those cartoons where the characters are chasing each other and they keep on running into one door and coming out another. My thoughts were cut short when there was another huge crash from upstairs followed by a groan. Apparently Judge Bates was fighting back, but from the sounds we were hearing, not for long.

All three of us went flying up the stairs. We got to another hallway with a bunch of doors lining it. That place was so confusing! One of the doors was ajar and Inspector Lestrade and Sherlock went crashing in while I waited out in the safety of the hallway, peeking over their shoulders. There was a guy all dressed in black standing over someone who must've been the judge on the floor. He was holding another butcher's knife. How many did he have? One for every person? He whirled around, saw Inspector Lestrade with his gun, dropped his knife, and ran for the window. Inspector Lestrade tackled him halfway there.

I clapped while Sherlock still just sulked. Maybe he wanted a part in the action. I didn't care...I was alive! Unlike Sherlock I don't find serial killers or even boring old murderers _interesting._


	7. Chapter 7

_AN: I included the epilogue in this chapter because it was super short but this is pretty much it...thanks for reading!_

After we had handed a sulky (he and Sherlock could've been friends!) Jeremy Wilkinson over to some police officers and had said goodbye to Inspector Lestrade, Sherlock and I waited in front of the police station for our moms to come get us. My mom hadn't sounded too happy over the phone when I told her what I had been doing for the past three hours. I mean, wouldn't you think that a mom would be proud of her son if he and his friend just solved a crime in three hours? Apparently not mine.

"I feel like catching a murderer with someone really brings you closer to them," I remarked. "I think that I could call Inspector Lestrade dad now. Speaking of dads, you should try solving a case with your dad. Maybe it would bring you closer together."

Sherlock just grunted like he didn't believe anything could bring him and his dad together. You see, Sherlock's dad was a tall, severe looking man. He had black hair and wore those glasses that used to be stylish in the 60s. You know, the ones with only half of the lense surrounded by black plastic. Sometimes people wondered how on earth he and Sherlock's mom got together. She's short and comfortably round with blond hair. She's the sort of person that you wouldn't mind getting a hug from. She always has candy in her purse.

Sherlock's mom pulled up in her little yellow love bug at the same time my mom pulled up in her grey mini-van. Both Sherlock and his dad hate riding in the love bug. Too cheery for them, I guess. My mom says that the mini-van is her own personal curse. She just barely missed the compact car train by having my youngest sister, Julia, who is three. My own personal curse is having three little sisters. It's harder than it sounds.

"Bye, Sherlock," I said. "I'll see you at school tomorrow. If my mom doesn't kill me and bury my body in our backyard!"

"Bye, John," Sherlock replied. "Say hi to Julia for me."

For some reason, Sherlock thinks that Julia is the cutest thing ever. Obviously he hasn't spent the last three years with the little monster living in a house with him.

Epilogue

That folks is how Sherlock and I solved the Cedar Point murder. According to Sherlock, it was ridiculously easy. I never will quite understand him. To be honest, I don't think anyone will.

The End


End file.
